


Fire Burns

by spiderosee (dokidave)



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rejection, Slow Burn, Time Hops, tony is a good person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-19 23:36:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14883414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dokidave/pseuds/spiderosee
Summary: Tony is exasperated, and Peter can’t understand why.





	Fire Burns

**Author's Note:**

> dont be mad at me when this is over

Peter is eight years old.

He’s on the edge of his seat, the couch, fidgeting with his hands as the commercials roll on the tv. As soon as the segment comes back on, he’s grinning wide and scrambling closer. He’s bouncing on his knees, impatient for the real show to start.

When Tony Stark comes on screen, there are stars in Peter’s eyes. He listens intently for the entire hour the program airs. Tony’s voice is inspiring and strong and it stimulates Peter’s brain in all the right ways.

Of course, he doesn’t understand everything the man says, but he wants to. He wants to study and learn and grow up to be just like Tony Stark. He wants to be a scientist.

* * *

Peter is fourteen years old.

He’s about to graduate from middle school.

He’s valedictorian of his class, obviously. He’s, what you could call, a teacher’s pet. He’s found over the last few years that he has troubles communicating with his fellow classmates. The conversations bore him, he’d much rather have long, intellectual chats with his teachers.

He reads essays for fun and builds robots in his free time at home. He watches reruns of Howard and Tony Stark’s lectures on loops while he studies.

He wonders, maybe, if he works hard enough, if he will be able to meet Mr. Stark one day. The thought fills his chest and stomach with butterflies.

* * *

Peter is fifteen years old.

He’s made a few friends over the past few years. He likes to play video games with them and watch old movies and blow stuff up in the backyard. Normal teenage stuff.

By now, he’s published three different essays and sent each one to Stark Industries in the hopes of getting an internship. His resume is impressive, but he’s still anxious about it. Working with Tony is his  _ dream _ , and he’s so scared that it will never come true.

His admiration has… made a slight turn, to put it lightly. Sometimes, instead of taking notes when he watches Tony speak, he touches himself.

When he gets the acceptance letter in the mail, his eyes well with tears.

_ Finally _ .

* * *

Peter is sixteen years old.

Everyday after school, he heads to Stark Tower for his internship.

At first, it was too good to be true. Finally, he thought, he was going to meet his idol. His inspiration. His hero.

It didn’t work out like that.

He ended up in a lab, with six other interns, working on menial side projects. It was discouraging, to say the least, but he was still determined. He  _ was _ going to meet Tony Stark, if it meant the death of him.

Now, he sits alone in the lab. It’s after hours, but he’s lost track of time. He’s been on the brink of solving this riddle for hours, but he just can’t quite put his finger on it. It’s on the tip of his tongue…

“Try a different catalyst,” a voice breaks through his concentration, and he nearly screams.

Okay, he screams.

It’s not the first time he’s stuck around after hours, but it is the first time he’s been interrupted.

“I  _ did _ try--” Peter starts, but when he looks up to see who’s with him, his face pales. “...M- Mr. Stark. What are you doing here!?”

“It’s my lab,” Tony says simply, taking the stool beside Peter.

_ This is it _ , Peter thinks. This is the moment he’s been waiting for since before he can remember.

And he can’t move.

He’s so awestruck, he can’t speak.

A small, “Um--,” manages to escape him, but all he can do is watch as Tony picks up his tools and starts to fiddle with his project.

Tony doesn’t even notice Peter staring. He’s probably used to it.

“Like this,” Tony finally announces.

Peter startles and finally flicks his eyes back to the table. His machine glows. Tony did it.

“Oh, wow…” Peter breathes. He reaches for the thing and picks it up, admiring it. Science will never cease to amaze him. Anything can be possible with enough poking and prodding.

Tony claps him on the back, and Peter nearly drops his machine as he chokes up.

“You did good, kid. What’s your name?” Tony asks.

Peter’s fingers clench around his small machine. Oh god, he’s so fucking nervous. “Um… Peter,” he says, avoiding eye contact. “Parker! I’m Peter Parker,” he adds, setting his project back on the table. “Thank you for helping me…” His fingers fidget in his lap and he can’t believe this is fucking real. Maybe he’s having another one of those wet dreams.

“Any time,” Tony says, with a smile.

Oh god, Tony is so attractive. Even more attractive in person. Peter can’t help his blush as the man reaches for a handshake.

“I’m impressed with how far you got on your own. Maybe I could use you on my team.”

Peter nearly faints before managing to nod his head.

* * *

Peter is seventeen years old.

He’s been working closely with Tony for over a year now. They’ve gone from formal greetings-- Mr. Stark and simply, Parker-- to a first name basis. They spend hours on hours on hours in the lab together, long after the others leave for the night. Peter almost never sleeps, but it’s so worth it. They’ve made some amazing things happen together.

And his crush has only gotten deeper and deeper. He admires Tony, as a scientist, as a person, as a  _ man _ . He could (and does) watch Tony work for hours on end. He loves Tony for his mind, his hands, his rough personality. When Tony smiles, Peter can’t seem to breathe.

When Peter flirts, Tony laughs. It’s casual, maybe a little awkward, and it’s getting to a point that Peter can’t stand it anymore. He  _ wants _ Tony. He wants to be with Tony every hour of the day. Eat with him, work with him, laugh with him, hold him, sleep with him… touch him. Peter can’t even begin to count how many times he’s fantasized about that last part, alone in his room in the early hours of the morning.

He needs Tony to understand just how much he needs him.

“You know, um…” Peter starts, one night while they’re tinkering with an old project. “School lets out on Friday… Like, for the summer. I’m going to have a lot more free time…”

“That’s great, kid,” Tony says, genuine. “It can’t be that much fun to hang around with this old man all the time, it;ll be good for you to see your friends more.”

Peter fidgets with his hands, and old nervous habit he can’t seem to break. “Actually… I was wondering if… maybe… you would want to get lunch with me…?” His breath catches in his throat and he knows his cheeks are red.

“Sure,” Tony says, easily. At first, Peter is ecstatic, but then… he realizes Tony doesn’t get it.

“I mean…” Peter starts, trying not to let his nerves shake his voice. “I want you to  _ get lunch with me _ . As in… like… a date… I-I want you to take me on a date…”

Tony stops then, and looks over at Peter. He doesn’t say anything for a long moment, eyes analyzing Peter’s face, trying to decide if he’s joking or not. “Peter… You’re too young for me,” he finally says, realizing Peter is serious.

“I’m really not!” Peter insists, a weak smile forming on his face. “I’ll be eighteen next year, and--”

“Peter,” Tony says again, putting a hand on the kids shoulder. “I’m twice your age.”

“Age gaps aren’t everything…” Peter mutters, his eyes averting from Tony’s gaze.

“Maybe so,” Tony agrees, “I’ll give you that. But you aren’t even legally an adult. Do you understand how  _ creepy _ I would have to be to say yes to you? Imagine an eleven year old asking you out--”

“Ew,” Peter interrupts.

“Exactly,” Tony sighs. He had suspected Peter had a crush on him for a while, but he had hoped it was nothing. Peter was still a child, after all. “Sorry, kid,” Tony says again.

Peter shrugs his shoulders. He should be a lot more upset, but as far as he’s concerned, Tony isn’t outright telling him no. He’s just trying to be polite, because Peter is underaged. It means Peter still has a chance.

* * *

Peter is seventeen years, and three hundred and sixty four days old.

It’s dark outside, late, almost midnight. As usual, by now, it’s just the two of them left in the lab. Peter’s heart beats hard in his chest with anticipation. His fingers shake as he stares blankly through his microscope. He checks his watch every few seconds, anxiety mixing with excitement in his veins.

He’s been waiting for this for so long.

Tonight is the night.

He glances at Tony almost as often as at his watch. Lord, Peter can never get enough of that sight. Tony sitting there, illuminated by the yellow light of the lab. The stubble caressing his jaw, his eyes trained and focused on his work. There’s nothing sexier than Tony in his  _ zone _ . He can practically see the gears turning in the man’s head.

Peter glances at his watch again, and-- oh god, it’s midnight, it’s time, it’s  _ finally time _ .

“Tony?” Peter asks, innocent as ever.

“Yeah?” comes Tony’s reply. His eyes don’t leave his microscope.

Perfect.

Peter stands, false confidence filling him to the brim. In just a few steps, he’s standing beside his mentor. He pulls Tony’s seat away from the table, and Tony looks up with his brows scrunched together.

“What is it?” Tony asks, clearly confused.

Peter smiles softly as he slips onto Tony’s lap, straddling the man and caressing that stubble that haunts his dreams. “It’s my birthday…” he whispers. His eyes are trained on Tony’s lips, so close, just a breath away. He doesn’t waste another second, leaning in for his perfect birthday present.

Tony stands immediately, knocking Peter to the floor. “Kid, what the fuck,” he asks, hands in his own hair, clearly bewildered. “Didn’t we talk about this? I thought I made myself clear--”

“You did!” Peter says, looking up at Tony with hurt eyes from his place on the floor. “You said-- you told me I was too young, that I wasn’t legal-- but now I am! I’m eighteen, as right now!”

“That’s…” Tony starts, his voice quiet. “That’s not what I meant, Peter. I’m sorry if I led you on, but--”

“But  _ what _ ?” Peter spits. He’s frowning now, deep, and his heart hurts, his entire body aches. “You  _ told _ me.”

“No, I didn’t,” Tony insists, brows knitting together. Every interaction he’s ever had with Peter is flashing through his head, trying to figure out where he went wrong. “I told you that you were too young for me. I never said that being eighteen would change anything. You’re still too young for me. Have you ever even been in another relationship?”

Tony is exasperated, and Peter can’t understand why.

“Why would I date someone else, when I love you?” Peter asks, hurt clear in his broken words.

Tony’s heart sinks into his stomach. “You don’t love me, kid, you don’t even know what love is yet.”

“Stop calling me that!” Peter shouts. He’s on his feet now, fists clenched tight at his sides. “I’m not a kid, and I know what I want. I  _ need _ you, Tony!”

Tony shakes his head, refusing to look at Peter any longer. “You can hate me if you want, but it’s not happening. I’m sorry.”

Hot tears stream down Peter’s cheeks. He watches Tony, heart pounding in his ears, fists shaking at his sides. He feels like he’s going to die.

In a last ditch effort, he crosses the distance between them and grabs Tony by the face, kissing him hard. Tony will see, he  _ has _ to see how much Peter loves him. He can’t turn Peter away, not now, not like this. This is everything he’s ever wanted, it can’t end this way…

But Tony shoves him off again, wiping his mouth with a horrified expression on his face.

Peter runs and never comes back.

* * *

Peter is twenty-five years old.

He lives alone, in a little, run down apartment in Manhattan. He majors in robotics at Columbia University, with a minor in art history. He interns in an office building, mostly just running errands.

He’s in heaven, honestly. He gets to spend all day surrounded by hot, older,  _ rich _ men. He’s unashamed to admit that that is  _ exactly _ his kink.

He  _ is _ ashamed to admit that he’s still single. He’s had his fair share of relationships over the years, but none of them ever quite satisfied Peter in the way he needed to be satisfied.

And he knew why.

Nothing got him off quite like the image of one of those men bending him over their desk and fucking him like he  _ belongs _ to them. The thought of a leather belt tied tightly around his wrists. A tie choked around his neck. A dick shoved so far down his throat that he blacks out.

That’s the good stuff.

He’s been after his boss for a while now. He knows the man is married, but fuck if that’s ever stopped Peter before. He knows the guy wants him, too. It’s only a matter of time.

Peter rides the elevator up to the top floor, tray of coffees in hand. When he gets to the conference room, it’s empty. He sets the tray on the table, slightly confused. Where is everyone?

He checks a few offices, all empty, until he reaches Mr. Donovan’s. His boss. The CEO. He knocks lightly before pushing the door open. “Sir?” he asks. “Did I miss the meeting?”

“Sure did,” the man gruffs, giving Peter a pointed stare. “What have I told you about punctuality?” he asks.

Peter closes the door behind himself and shrinks a bit against it. “Sorry, sir… I was reading this paper on AI’s and I--”

“Save it,” Mr. Donovan says, stopping Peter with a wave of his hand. “You know, I’ve got a headache from listening to them talk for so long without my coffee.” He fixes Peter with another look and says, “How are you going to make it up to me?”

Peter’s stomach flips with the implication behind those words. God, he was going to have to spend a few minutes in the bathroom after this. “Um, Sir? I don’t know what you mean…” he admits.

A silence settles between them.

“Come over here,” Mr. Donovan demands. Peter obeys, stopping in front of his boss’ desk. The man stands and rounds the desk, stopping just in front of Peter.

Peter’s breath flutters in his chest and he can feel a heat rise to his cheeks as he has to look up at the older man now. It makes him feel small and vulnerable and hot and submissive and  _ holy shit _ \-- Peter looks away.

Thick, strong fingers on his chin force him to look back up. He’s weak in the knees at this point, but he tries to keep it professional, even as his dick twitches to life in his pants. “Sir?” he asks quietly. “What can I do for you?”

The man’s eyes narrow dangerously, and Peter’s go wide as he’s shoved back against the desk. Then, his head is in his boss’ hands and he’s being kissed. He lets out a weak moan as Mr. Donovan licks into his mouth. He’s lightheaded and overwhelmed and he can’t help himself from wrapping his legs around the man’s hips.

Neither of them notices the intercom going off, or hears the door open. Peter does notice, however, his ass hitting the hard floor as he’s dropped. “Fuck,” he mutters, rubbing what’s sure to be a bruise. He looks up and freezes immediately.

No, it can’t be.

He stares in horror as his boss crosses the room to greet none other than Tony fucking Stark.

Peter misses the entire conversation, thoughts racing to quickly to keep up with. The one that sticks out the most is  _ of course Tony would be here to ruin his chances yet again _ .

“Peter,” he hears, and he snaps out of it. He pulls himself up to his feet and gives Mr. Donovan his attention. “Can you give us a minute?”

“Of course, Sir,” he says, only sounding a little bit bitter as he crosses the room. He slides past Tony, ignoring him as he leaves the office.

Okay, he really needs to take a break now.

He locks himself in the nearest bathroom and presses himself against the door. What the fuck just happened.

He works himself up so much, he’s damn near having a panic attack now. He loses track of time, trying to catch his breath and stop the goddamn shaking in his bones.

When he eventually settles down, he unlocks the door, only to be immediately greeted with Tony’s face again.

“Oh,” Tony says, stopping short as if he had been just about to push the door open himself. “Peter… how are you?”

Peter rolls his eyes. “Fine,” is his short answer.

Tony shifts uncomfortably on his feet, obviously at a loss for words. “Can we talk?” he finally asks.

Peter can’t help but notice that he’s taller than Tony now. Interesting.

“I don’t know, I was in the middle of a pretty important meeting with my boss just now, it might have to wait.” Peter tries to push past, but Tony stops him.

“ _ Peter _ ,” Tony says again, pleading now. “Please get some lunch with me.”

Peter scoffs, but he doesn’t say no. He follows Tony out to Tony’s car and gets in the passenger seat. He’s silent for the entire ride.

When they’re seated at the table, Peter finally speaks up. “You’re paying for this.”

“Sure, of course,” Tony agrees, unusually quiet. Peter almost feels bad for the guilty tone in Tony’s voice. At least, he’d feel bad if he weren’t so angry.

Tense silence stretches across the table. Peter drums his fingers impatiently as he pretends to read the menu.

“Listen, Peter, I’m sorry,” Tony starts, and Peter just scoffs. “Please hear me out. I never meant to hurt you.”

“But you did,” Peter says, matter of factly.

Tony sighs then, clearly frustrated. “I thought by now you might understand… You were so young, Peter, I just couldn’t do it.”

Peter catches his eye, and suddenly the situation clicks. “Oh my  _ god _ ,” he says, stunned. “You want me  _ back _ .”

“What?” Tony asks, looking anywhere but at Peter. He takes a sip of his water.

“I mean, you interrupted what I had going on with Donovan, so…” Peter trails off, leaving the offer open ended.

Tony raises a brow at him. “What does that mean?”

Peter rolls his eyes again, this time because he knows he has the upper hand. “He was just about to throw me over his desk before you so rudely interrupted. I think you owe me for that.” He watches the gears turn in Tony’s head, and a smirk splits his face because he knows that Tony is considering it. It only took seven years of silence between them.

“...So I see you’ve still got a thing for older men,” Tony says, trying to brush off the sexual tension thickening the air. “I thought you’d grow out of it.”

“Well I didn’t,” Peter says, “And after you buy me lunch, you can either take me home with you, or never talk to me again.”

Tony considers this. He doesn’t want to seem like a hypocrite, but Peter is older now. He’s more experienced, knows more about the world. He’s not eighteen anymore, trying to lose his virginity to a thirty-five year old.

In less than an hour, they’re tumbling in a heap onto Tony’s mattress. Peter tugs desperately at Tony’s shirt, trying to rip it off between kisses. He throws Tony down and straddles his hips, tossing his own shirt aside as well. “I’ve gotta say,” Peter says, running a finger down the middle of Tony’s chest. “This is quite a step down from what I had earlier. He was bigger than me, dominating, threatening… You’re…”

Tony frowns, sitting up on his elbows. “Is there a point to this?”

“Maybe you’ve outgrown your charm,” Peter says, his voice cold and steady. He runs his fingers softly through Tony’s hair before gripping it in a fist and leaning in. “If I’m up here, and you’re down there, then what am I doing here?” He takes Tony’s lip between his teeth and tugs lightly. “If I wanted to be in control, I’d find someone my own age to fuck.”

Tony grunts, his frown deep as he shoves Peter off of him. “Be careful what you wish for, kid.”

**Author's Note:**

> listen... i forget how to write porn  
> there might be more chapters if i can do it justice


End file.
